


Nothing to Forgive

by ItsAWonderfulLife



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Downton Abbey Fusion, Christmas, Episode: s02e09 Christmas at Downton Abbey, F/F, Fluff, It's basically a Downton Abbey Christmas AU, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Morgana and Gwen are smart and nobody else is, Please be kind I have no idea what I'm doing, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28098492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAWonderfulLife/pseuds/ItsAWonderfulLife
Summary: The Downton Abbey Christmas Special AU literally nobody asked for. Merlin's magic threatens to be exposed by his horrible ex and Arthur is a bit of a jealous idiot. Basically read my massive disservice to two of my favourite shows. :D
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Mordred (but like bad)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75





	Nothing to Forgive

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I in no way own BBC's Merlin or ITV's Downton Abbey. Tragic I know, I'd be really rich by now.
> 
> Please be kind :)

Morgana and Gwen were still glaring at him from across the hall, very unsubtly he might add, but Arthur adamantly refused to engage with them, choosing to angrily stir his soup around instead. “Merlin,” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder at his idiotic servant.

“Yes, sire?”

“This soup is cold. Fetch me some more.”

“Arthur, it’s not even-”

“Firstly, ‘sire’. Secondly, yes it is cold. Replace it.”

“Okay.” It really wasn’t proper for one’s manservant to sigh at them publicly, but this was the sham that was the life of Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, so he simply downed another cup of mead and mulled once more over the conversation with Gwaine earlier that day. He hadn’t known Merlin was even dating this Mordred fellow, much less that he was being threatened by him. The fact that he hadn’t known stung more than he cared to admit. Merlin hadn’t told him. But it would seem Merlin was unhappy, and that he had been trying to leave Mordred for a while, only to be threatened by having his magic exposed. The magic Arthur had known about for years. Honestly, Merlin was such an idiot sometimes. So he was leaving, running off to Ealdor to flee the envisioned crisis when Mordred exposed him to the court. Rolling his eyes, Arthur chanced a look at his sister, whose glare seemed to only intensify from where she was muttering judgements with Gwen, no doubt. She had accosted Arthur in his chambers earlier that day, and he shuddered slightly at the memory.

_____

_“You’re going to let him leave? Are you really that pathetic?”_

_“Morgana, he doesn’t even want to tell me about the magic. Or his boyfriend. I don’t think we have much of a future together, and I don’t know what good you imagine me ordering him to stay would do.”_

_“Arthur,” she said, more softly now, “I’m not suggesting you order him to stay. I’m suggesting you provide him with a position within the court, make sure he knows he’s accepted, let him know that we won’t abandon him if he breaks things off with this Mordred.”_

_He grimaced, and fell back onto his bed, angrily contemplating the ceiling._

_“I can’t just invade his personal life, Morgana. If he wants to leave, I can’t stop him. He wasn’t born into my service, and he deserves some time with his mother.”_

_Morgana huffed. “You are a coward, Arthur Pendragon,” she hissed, before slamming out of the door to go find her lover._

_______

Arthur had the perfect position in the court for Merlin. The problem was, in order to make him his Royal Consort, he would first have to tell Merlin about his... feelings. And that was if Merlin even felt the same. He had a boyfriend! A bad one. A terrible one. But still. His heart belonged to another, and Arthur could not let himself hope that Morgana may be right. The object of his affections returned as he was processing these painful thoughts, looking ridiculous as he stumbled in with the replacement soup. Arthur mumbled his thanks and went back to angrily stirring. Merlin eyed him warily.

“Sire, if you don’t eat it, it’ll get cold again.”

“What do you care?”

It was out before he could stop himself from snapping, and Merlin’s face crumpled into mild confusion, shaking his head at Arthur’s outburst.

“Of course I care. Eat your soup.”

_____

After dinner, there was more embarrassment to be found during the torturous tradition of dance. Gwen was leaning against the far wall, sipping her wine gently, when Arthur wandered over to her. “Sire,” she nodded.

“None of that, Guinevere, you’re my sister’s lover.”

It was quite funny to watch her blush, admittedly, and she was so very pretty when she did. Her blush didn’t take away from her ever-present glare, however, as she seemed to have set out on a mission to mirror Morgana’s disdain for Arthur this evening.

“If I may, my lord, why would you let him leave? He’s going to leave forever, thinking you’d hate him if you knew the truth, and you may never see him again.”

She was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear it. Or that it didn’t hurt.

“Guinevere, I don’t expect you to understand. When Morgana confessed her love for you, she knew it was reciprocated. I cannot make him stay if he doesn’t want to.”

Tutting, she took another gulp of wine. “Forgive me, Arthur, but that’s pathetic.” She was suddenly distracted by a pale, cat-like arm wrapping possessively around her shoulders.

“Brother,” Morgana nodded, “as much as I should hate to break my vow of disappointed silence, it may interest you to know that Merlin has just left the hall to go end things with Mordred. And they both looked very angry.”

Arthur had never run so quickly in his life.

_____

“Do you honestly think I’ll keep your secret now? Do you think I’ll keep quiet for one more day?”

“And you wonder why we’re not well-suited!” Merlin hissed, gripping the back of the chair at Gaius’ breakfast table.

“You never loved me anyway. It’s always been him. He’d have you killed for who you are, and you still love him more than me!” Mordred screamed, his eyes blazing with anger, lines of tinted gold appearing as things began to shake within the room. Merlin sighed, throwing out a calm hand to halt the shaking. He always had been a fan of the dramatics, which was never to Merlin’s taste. “Mordred, I’m sorry, but you must see we would never make each other happy.”

“You won’t be happy by the time I’m finished, I promise you that!”

At that moment, the door was thrown open, and Arthur stumbled in, looking a little flushed, a little tipsy, and a lot angry. “Merlin? Are you alright?”

“Oh of course, here he is. Can he not even get rid of me without your help?”

Arthur ignored him completely, turning the full intensity of his blue eyes - so very blue - onto Merlin. “I heard shouting,” he explained, “I wanted to check.”

“He has magic!” Mordred burst out. Merlin couldn’t believe the words had been spoken. But they had. They couldn’t be taken back. Ah yes, there it was, the fear, the panic, the realisation that he had to flee. Before he could reach for the bag he had prepared some nights ago, however, he noticed that Arthur’s anger was not turned on him, but on Mordred.

“I know, you bastard.” And then he punched him. The king of Camelot had punched Merlin’s very recently ex-boyfriend and was rolling around on the floor, dragging Mordred by his mop of dark curls, and _apparently knew about Merlin’s magic._

Merlin managed to stave off his panic attack, just, and threw up a bubble of protection around Arthur, shielding him from all evil magic. The fight continued even so, in the old-fashioned way.

“Arthur, let him go,” Gaius’ quiet but commanding voice came from the doorway, as Merlin dragged Mordred away from the king.

Arthur turned to look at the younger sorcerer, and mustered all of his dignity as he declared, “You have half a candle mark to leave my kingdom. I will kill you if you stay.”

Mordred stole one last glance at Merlin, who was shivering in the corner, despite Gaius’ arm placed protectively around him, and scuttled from the room.

Arthur straightened his tunic and his jacket, running his fingers through his hair until it no longer resembled a golden nest, stared at the shattered mess on the floor and mumbled, “Sorry about the vials.”

Gaius chuckled. “Oh don’t worry, sire, they were all failed experiments anyway.”

_____

The party was well and truly over, that much was clear, and guests slowly began to make their way to their rooms or to their carriages. After witnessing many formalities and polite farewells, Arthur found himself perched on the stairs in front of the castle entrance, watching, entranced, as snow began to fall gently. It coated the ground like icing sugar, and he smiled as flakes fell on his nose.

There was a loud clash behind him, and Merlin thudded down two steps, landing squarely on the step above him, cursing and rubbing his leg where he had fallen. He seemed to be lacking grievous harm, though, so Arthur rolled his eyes affectionately, and allowed himself to simply enjoy the comforting silence of Merlin’s presence.

Drunken giggles could be heard in various corridors, silhouettes dancing through the windows to Arthur’s vision from inside the castle.

“There’ll be a few thick heads in the morning,” he noted absently, running a hand through the snow where it was gathering next to him.

Merlin hummed his agreement.

Steeling himself, Arthur lifted his head once more. “So you’re really returning to Ealdor then?” A nod. Oh. Well that wouldn’t do.

“Would Mordred really ruin everything for you here? Now that I’ve banished him?”

Merlin sighed. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe. Even if he does let me go, the whole of Camelot will know. Everyone will hate me.”

Arthur frowned, contemplating this. “Would you stay? If I asked you to?” His heartbeat was loud in his ears, unsure if he could bear to hear the answer.

“You know I would. But that’s not what you want. And what about the magic? Wouldn’t you throw that back in my face that moment we argued?” Merlin looked so wary and so crushed that it made something clench deep inside Arthur, and he had to blink to stop his eyes from growing watery.

“No.”

Merlin blinked, uncomprehending. “You mean you’ve forgiven me?”

“No.”

“Well then.”

“I haven’t forgiven you because I don’t believe you need my forgiveness,” he clarified, watching Merlin gulp nervously and play with the sleeve of his tunic. “You’ve lived your life. I’ve lived mine. Now it’s time we live them together.”

“What are you saying?” 

“I’ll legalise magic. I’ll do anything you ask. Just stay.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded broken. “We can be happy.”

“Okay,” Merlin mumbled.

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll stay.” They grinned at each other like complete fools for the longest while, until Arthur realised he hadn’t asked the most important question yet.

“Oh. Also. Um. Would you marry me?”

Merlin choked on air, rasping out a startled cough. He jumped up, pacing across the step he had yet to stray from.

“ _What?!”_

“I hated Mordred,” Arthur admitted, hesitantly standing up too, “I hated him with all my being, even before he threatened you. And I know that you probably don’t feel the same. But I’ve been in love with you for five years now.”

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed, a look of wonder in his eyes. “You idiot. I won’t answer unless you say it properly. Kneel down and everything.”

Arthur glared. “Clotpole.”

Sighing, he kneeled anyway. He gazed up at the wonderful man in front of him, covered in tiny flakes of snow, and smiling so brightly it could almost blind him.

“Merlin Emrys, would you do me the honour of marrying me, and becoming my Royal Consort?”

“Yes, you prat.” And then Arthur was being pulled up, and thoroughly kissed, and found he didn’t mind the Yule Ball as much as he thought he would.

_____

Later, when he barged into her chambers to break the news to Morgana, there was stunned silence. “Arthur, I meant- I meant you should make him Court Sorcerer!” Gwen snorted from across the room, plumping their pillows with a contented little smile, and approval in her eyes.


End file.
